


Cat(s)

by Mercia



Series: hellopurpletiger & Mercia's June Prompt Challenge [5]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cats, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pets, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Pride Month Prompts 2018, a cat and its humans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 01:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14863773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercia/pseuds/Mercia
Summary: Sam'scat is called Caspar. (And definitely not Stella.)





	Cat(s)

**Author's Note:**

> As per i cant think of a name and im sorry

#3 Pets

Sam's alarm hasn't even gone off when he hears it.  He rolls out of bed and smiles fondly. It's almost six so he's about to get out anyways, besides, he thinks he might be used to it by now. Sam opens the window and a blur of patchy black and ginger darts through, making him laugh.

Outside is dry but cool, with a good breeze, so it's the perfect weather for running, for Sam at least. The sun is rising in the horizon, and Sam sticks his head out to breathe the morning in.

A plaintive meow sounds behind him and he laughs, pivoting on his feet. "Okay, Caspar," he says looking at the cat currently perched at the end of his bed and not feeling even the slightest bit ridiculous that he's talking to a cat. "Let's go see if I've got anything for you."

Caspar makes a sound of cat-ish agreement and pads out the room to where he knows Sam keeps his food. Clever cat. Sam follows him, humming lightly.

They're in luck, it seems, because low and behold, there is can of sardines, just sitting innocently in the cupboard, and Sam holds it out, grinning triumphantly.

Breakfast is a calm affair, save Caspar's slight impatience. Sam empties some of the sardines into a little dish and fixes himself a bowl of oats and honey.

As always, Caspar follows Sam out on his usual route, around the block.

The gentle wind and the warm light feels good on his skin, the slowly building ache in his muscles and just the feeling of running. It's strange but Sam loves it. It was one of the first things that actually really helped when he got back from overseas, running. Just at a slow, easy pace, enough that Caspar can keep up without any of his complaining. And it's always better in the morning because for some reason it always feels like he's running towards something, somewhere, instead of running away. It's freeing, as cheesy as it sounds.

Still, it's starting to get a bit too hot, and Sam is probably beginning to stink a little from sweat, by the time Sam decides it's about time to turn back. The sun is significantly higher now, and a glance at his watch tells him it'll be time for him to start getting dressed for the VA now.

Behind him, he hears Caspar give a little yowl, and Sam rolls his eyes. That drama queen.

"Stella?" says another voice, and Sam has to do a double-take because last time he checked his cat could  _ not _ talk.

He turns around.

And, oh fuck, he thinks. Oh fuckitty fuck. Fuck. My poor gay heart.

Because standing before him is possibly the most attractive man Sam has ever seen and possibly in the whole of existence. With a tight, red v-neck which doesn't cover but rather exposes  _ all  _ the muscles, a solid defined jaw with the perfect amount of stubble, a fucking goddamn  _ man _ - _ bun _ , with little strands falling out, the clearest blue eyes (like the  _ ocean _ ) and the brightest pictures-in-the-dentist-waiting-room smile. Sam possibly melts.

"Can I help you?" he manages to say smoothly and without stuttering, which is kind of a fucking achievement. Well done Sam, good job.

The man stares at him blankly for a moment, eyebrows raised, as though he hadn't expected to be spoken to and as though he wasn't the one who spoke first.

And then he looks at Casper -- who is just sitting there between them innocently, tail swishing -- and then back at Sam.

"You're not Stella," the man deadpans, before pointing at Casper almost accusingly, "That's Stella."

Sam blinks.

…What?

"Dude," says Sam, more than a little miffed, because that's  _ Caspar, his _ cat. "That's Caspar. My cat."

"No. It's Stella.  _ My _ cat."

"It's a dude," he insists, "so Caspar."

The man shrugs uncaringly. "Yeah, yeah. Stella's a dude, I know that. Still my cat."

"Nuh-uh. I fed her sardines this morning. I feed her every morning." explains Sam, because really, how hard is it to understand the cat is  _ Sam's _ when he's literally been following Sam for the past hour and a half every morning? Honestly, some people!

The man narrows his eyes at him, and then narrows his eyes even further at the cat. "So that's why you've been getting so fucking fat, huh, kitty?"

Caspar meows.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i didnt know how to end it so i just ended it there okay im sorry. kudos anyway?


End file.
